


Summer 1996

by CaptainYellow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainYellow/pseuds/CaptainYellow
Summary: Snippets about how Ginny Weasley became Harry Potter's Amortentia. HBP missing moments.





	1. Bet-a-Bean

Ginny laughs as Harry rolls his Firebolt over and almost falls off his broom. He easily rights himself and circles the orchard upside down.

“Alright! Stop boasting, Potter!” she calls after him.

He lands gracefully next to her, a cheeky grin on his face. “I think that would be two beans, Weasley.”

“ _One_ bean! We said one bean if you fly over one lap of the pitch upside down,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, but I flew over _two_ laps so that two beans,” he smirks, extending his hand.

She huffs and reluctantly gives him two beans from her Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans bag. She looks inside her bag, there's only one bean left. Harry's is still half full, the lucky git won most of their bets. Of course, he did. Unlike her, he has a Firebolt; he can do almost everything with that thing. It doesn't stop Ginny from coming up with crazier challenges every time, though.

It's a game they have invented over the summer. They call it 'Bet-a-Bean', it's exactly what it sounds like.

“I hope they're both vomit flavour,” she grumbles.

Harry gladly takes his prize and pretends to hoist a toast. “To my victory over the novice Ms. Weasley, who should really learn a thing or two from me.” Ginny glowers at him as he bites in the first bean. “Chocolate,” he sighs in delight.

He raises the second bean up in the air. “And to my legendary skills. Shame that Ms. Weasley seems to have none.”

This time, Ginny does try to punch him, but being taller than her, Harry easily dodges her fist. “Strawberry,” he grins at the furious redhead.

“Now you've really pissed me off, Potter.”

“Oooh, I'm so scared.”

Ginny stands right in front of him, glaring daggers, and pulls herself to her full length. Harry tries –but fails miserably– to hide his smile. She barely reaches his chin and looks more like an angry kitten than a dangerous tiger. It's adorable, really.

“I bet you one bean that I can stand up on my broom for ten seconds and not fall off.”

“Two beans.” He lifts an eyebrow as her cheeks flush brightly. “What? You don't have enough beans left?”

“Sod off!”

“Someone's cranky.”

“Someone needs to shut up!”

Harry grins. “Fine. One bean.”

Determined to win, Ginny mounts her broom. She kneels carefully and slowly stands up, her feet firmly set on her broom. She hears Harry whistle but she doesn't look at him, her eyes are focused on an invisible point straight ahead of her. Harry starts counting to ten. Her feet are trembling and she's beginning to tire but she refuses to give up.

Finally, Harry announces, “Ten!”

Beaming, she jumps off of her broom. “I won!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Congratulation.”

He gives her a bean and she eats it, happily sucking on the sweet, when... Ginny suddenly turns slightly green and spits it out.

“Phlegm!” she cries.

Harry bursts out laughing. “How fitting!”

 

 


	2. Sweet Treacle Tart

“We're _not_ playing 'Bet-a-Bean'!”

“Ginny, please! I promise to let you win this time.”

Ginny puts her hands on her hips and glares at Harry. “First of all, I don't need you to let me win, I'm way better at flying than you. And second,” she blushes and mumbles, “I don't have any Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans left.”

“Cause I whipped your arse last time we played?" he gives a lopsided grin.

Glaring, Ginny passes by him. “Why don't you go ask Ron to play with you, then? If you're so much better than me!”

“Ron's not as good as you are,” Harry follows her into the kitchen and sits next to her. “Please, Ginny. Don't make me beg you.”

Something twinkles in her eyes. “You know what? That's not a bad idea.”

A mischievous smile is dancing on her lips. Harry is reminded strongly of the Weasley twins, which can only mean trouble.

“W-what?”

“Beg for it,” she orders.

Her eyes are blazing, pinning him to his chair. She looks like a predator ready to eat her prey. Suddenly, it's very warm in the kitchen and Harry feels his face reddened. It's certainly because of the oven in which a cake is baking.

Just then, Bill and Fleur enter the room hand in hand. Ginny promptly ignores them and pretends to help herself a cup of tea.

“I'll see you tonight, Flower,” Bill kisses the tip of Fleur's nose.

Harry grabs a cup of tea and follows Ginny's lead.

“'ave a nize day, Billy Bear,” Fleur purrs before kissing her fiancé soundly on the lips.

Harry stirs his tea, clattering his spoon loudly against the cup.

Bill Floos to the Ministry, leaving a very flushed Fleur by the fireplace. She giggles to herself then leaves the kitchen without a word.

“Do me a favour, Harry. If I ever act like that, kill me,” Ginny says darkly.

“What? You're not going to kiss your husband goodbye when you get married?” Harry teases.

“I will. But I'll never call him something as stupid as _Billy Bear_ ,” she pretends to gag.

He laughs. “Do you want some sugar with your tea, _Flower_?”

“Yes, pleaze, my cute Unicorn,” she says in a very good imitation of Fleur.

Harry's caught up in the game. “Would you play with me after lunch, Bunny Darling?”

“Only if you beg for it, Sweetie Kneazle.”

“Please, my Apple Pudding Cake?”

Ginny snorts. “You'll have to do better than that, Lovely Sunshine.”

Unnoticed by them, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley enter the kitchen just as Harry takes Ginny's hand and dramatically says, “I'm begging you, please, my Sweet Treacle Tart.”

There is a huge rush of noise and they turn around to see that Mrs. Weasley has dropped the basket of fruits she was carrying. Beside her, Mr. Weasley is coughing so loudly, Harry thinks he may be choking on the apple he is eating.

Red-faced, he releases Ginny's hand. “It's not what you think!”

But Ginny can't help it. She bursts out laughing and takes his hand again, “Come on _Harry Bear_! Let's find Hermione and Ron, and play Quidditch!”

Still furiously blushing, Harry gladly follows her out of the kitchen. They both miss her parents knowing smiles.

 


	3. Weasley Power

 

“Do we really have to do that?” Hermione asks for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Yes!” Ginny answers cheerfully. “Come on! It's gonna be fun.”

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest. “We played two-a-side Quidditch yesterday and it wasn't _fun_.”

“Of course it was!” Ginny grins. “Watching Harry with only one foot in the air was the funniest thing ever.”

Ron bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, but this was nothing compared to the squealing sound Ron made when I scored my seventh goal,” Harry smirks as Ron's ears turn red. “Nice vocal, by the way.”

Ron snatches two brooms from the shed and tosses one at Ginny. “Let's give them a taste of the Weasley Power!”

They high five before flying off toward the small paddock the Weasleys own. Hermione looks at Harry with puppy eyes and grasps her hands in front of herself, silently begging him to let her out of this mess. He can't help but laugh as he flies off toward his friends.

“Ready to get your arse whipped, Potter?” Ginny taunts.

“You look familiar. Have I beaten you before?” Harry shoots back.

“Oh, very clever.”

“Very _funny_.”

They stare at each other with smug smiles as Ron releases the old Quaffle. Ginny quickly grabs it and makes it to the goal. Hermione screeches and extends one hand, the other firmly gripping her broom. Harry zooms after Ginny but it's no use, she manages to score a goal. Ron cheers from his posts as Harry swears under his breath.

“Weasley Power!” Ginny roars, fits high in the air.

This time, Harry seizes the Quaffle and speeds toward the opposite end of the paddock, Ginny hot on his tail. He darts to his left, then to his right, but she won't tire. Seeing no other choice, he shoves her and easily throws the Quaffle between the two posts Ron is guarding. Hermione claps her hands happily as Ron mumbles something inaudible.

“ _Weasley Power!”_ Harry squeals in an exaggerated imitation of Ginny.

“This means war, Potter.”

She grabs the Quaffle and takes off on her broom. Things start to get more intense from there. Harry and Ginny are fierce competitors, there is no mercy between them. They fly neck-and-neck, without tiring.

Ron's cheeks are flushed and his brows furrowed in concentration. Hermione has given up trying and her broom is now barely off the ground.

Harry secures the Quaffle under his arms and flies furiously toward Ron. A whistling in his ear tells him Ginny is close. He lifts up his arm, ready to score, when he sees a flash of red hair. Out of nowhere, Ginny slams into him, sending them both tumbling toward the grass. They land in a jumble of arms and legs on top of each other. Hermione's scream carries over the paddock.

Laughing, Harry disentangles himself and helps Ginny up. “You know, you're quite strong for someone so small.”

Her cheeks are flush, her hair is a mess, and yet she is grinning madly. “That's Weasley Power for you.”

Hermione and Ron land next to them a few seconds later.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt somewhere?" Hermione asks hastily. “Oh, I knew this was a bad idea! Two-a-side Quidditch is _never_ fun!”

“You're kidding?" Ron laughs. “This was even more funny than Harry nearly being knocked from his broom!”

“Let's do it again tomorrow!” Ginny says brightly and Hermione groans.

 


	4. Happy Birthday Harry

Something is tickling Harry's nose, something soft... like a feather, maybe?

“Stop it, Hedwig,” Harry groans sleepily.

He hears a muffled laughter but decides to ignore it, it's way too early to wake up. Some moment later, Harry starts to doze off again, when he feels two soft feathers this time. They are caressing his face, tracing lazy patterns on his cheek. Hazily, he thinks he can smell something flowery, but it's impossible, Hedwig doesn't smell like flowers.

Reluctantly, Harry cracks one eye opened and catches a glimpse of a blurry mane of red hair framing a pale face. The figure has their hands pressed to their mouth in an attempt to stifle a laughter.

“Go'way, Ginny,” he groans and pulls his blanket over his head.

The bed wiggles as Ginny climbs onto it. “Can't,” she laughs, trying to tug the blanket off his head. “It's your birthday, I _have_ to annoy you.”

She finally manages to pull the blanket back, and he glares at her. “Says who?”

“Says the Ginny Weasley Amendment,” she declares solemnly.

Rolling his eyes, Harry puts his glasses on and sits up. “Today's supposed to be a fun day for me.”

“Oh, it will be,” she assures him.

She takes the breakfast tray he didn't notice was on his bedside and puts it on his laps. A plate full of mini treacle tarts and two mugs of cocoa are staring at him. His mouth waters at the sight, it looks delicious.

“Happy birthday, Harry. I made them myself,” Ginny smiles. “Come on, tuck in!”

He eyes her suspiciously, “You didn't spike them, did you?”

“Of course, not!” she sounds affronted.

He decides to trust her and takes a pastry. She holds her breath as he bites in. He chews slowly, savouring it. It _is_ delicious.

“So?” she asks expectantly.

Harry gives her a brilliant smile. “For someone who doesn't have my legendary Quidditch skills, you sure know how to cook.”

Her face lights up. “You like it, then?”

“Very much,” he answers sincerely.

Laughing, she helps herself a mini treacle tart. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Don't know,” Harry takes a sip of cocoa, “Beat your arse at Quidditch?”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “We've played Quidditch every day for the past few weeks. We need to do something special today.”

“Quidditch _is_ special,” Harry protests.

“Really? This is all you need to be happy? A broom and a snitch?”

“And you, of course. I would need someone to defeat.”

“Prat,” she punches him playfully on the shoulder.

Harry eats another mini treacle tart and moans happily. “Really, Ginny. You're the best cook.”

She snorts. “Mum taught me. She says a 'proper wife' should know how to cook for her husband, whatever the hell this means.”

“Well, your husband's going to be one lucky git,” Harry licks his fingers in delight.

“Don't call my husband that,” Ginny says sternly, but her eyes are twinkling.

“Sorry. Should I say _Git Bear_?”

She throws back her head and laughs just as Ron and Hermione enter his bedroom.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Hermione beams.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Cakes!” Ron cries before sitting on Harry's bed and helping himself. “Haffy birfday, mate.”

“Thanks,” Harry chuckles.

“Seriously, Ron!” Hermione grimaces.

Ron swallows quickly and takes a sip of Ginny's cocoa, ignoring the dark look she shoots him. “What do you want to do today?”

“You'll never guess,” Ginny mutters.

“Quidditch?” Ron grins.

“Quidditch,” Harry nods, answering his smile.

“Please, not _again_!” Hermione groans, but Harry is too busy devouring his pastries to answer her complaint.

 

 


	5. Happy Birthday Ginny

It's half-past eight when Ginny knocks on the shed's door. Harry's face lights up, she's right on time. He opens the door slightly and peaks his head through the crack.

“Password?”

She rolls her eyes. “Is that really necessary?” He gives her a pointed look and she huffs. “Fine!” she folds her arms. Blushing to the root of her flaming hair, she mumbles, “Eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad.”

Harry grins, opening the door fully. “Hair as dark as a blackboard.”

Ginny shoots him a murderous look and follows him inside the shed. “I don't know what's more alarming, the fact that you remember this damn poem or the fact that you want to hear it again.”

Laughing, Harry grabs her in a headlock and playfully digs his knuckles into her scalp.

“Let go of me!” she struggles ineffectually.

“Can't!” he laughs. “It's your birthday and according to the Ginny Weasley Amendment, I _have_ to annoy you.”

In one swift move, she manages to pinch his side. Harry yelps and finally lets go of her.

“You're impossible,” she rakes her fingers through her now messy hair, amusement obvious in her voice. “So? Where's my present?” she asks, looking around the shed with sparkling eyes.

Harry just can't resist the temptation. “I was supposed to give you a present?” he teases.

She gives him an impatient look. “Come on!” she whines.

He's tempted to make her beg for it, but he's just as eager as she is to give her her birthday present. He has rehearsed all night what he was going to tell her, but now that she's standing in front of him, he doesn't really know what to say. What if she thinks his present is crappy? Or worse, inappropriate?

Awkwardly, he takes his broom from the shed and hands it to her. “Fly with me?” he asks sheepishly.

Ginny looks astonished for a moment, her mouth opening and closing several times without saying anything. Harry feels his cheeks flush and hopes it's dark enough in the shed that she can't see.

He knew it. This was such a bad idea! Ginny cooked for him on his birthday and all he has to offer her is a lame ride on his broom. He is ready to apologize for being such a prick when a bright smile appears on her face.

She snatches the Firebolt out of his hand and declares, “I'll go in front!”

She mounts the broom and waits as patiently as she can for Harry to sit behind her.

“Ready?” she almost squeals.

Relieved that she's obviously enjoying his present, Harry nods and wraps his arms around her stomach.

With a loud whoop, she kicks off from the ground and speeds up into the summer sky. “Weasley Power!” she roars.

Harry laughs and presses his chest firmly against her back. He already knew how good she was at flying, but now that he is on the same broom as her, he can see how brilliant she really is.

It doesn't take long for Ginny to control the world-class broom. She zooms toward the orchard and laughs as she rolls the broom over and circles the pitch.

“Hold the broom,” she tells him over her shoulder.

He reaches over and grabs the handle of his Firebolt. Ginny closes her eyes and stretches open her arms as the wind rushes past her.

“Look! I'm flying!” she laughs.

Grinning madly, Harry lets the exhilaration floods him. The Burrow seems so far away right now. Several birds fly pass them, chirping their morning song. A sweet flowery scent embalms the air and Harry inhales deeply. For a moment, it feels like there is no war, no Voldemort, and no prophecy. Harry would give anything to stay up there in the sky.

“This is the best birthday ever!”, Ginny squeals.

Smiling from ear to ear, he lowers his face and whispers in her ear, “Happy birthday, Ginny.”


	6. Soothing

It's very late into the afternoon by the time Harry and Ginny decide they have had enough of Quidditch for today.

Hermione and Ron's laughter can be heard in the distance. The pair is currently sitting on the patio, enjoying a glass of fresh lemonade. They stopped playing two-a-side Quidditch some hours ago after Hermione complained of 'headaches'. Judging by the way she is now throwing back her head and roaring with laughter at something Ron has just said, Ginny doubts she was ever sick.

She sees Ron sipping his lemonade and groans inwardly. She would give anything to be allowed to summon a glass of water right now.

She has never felt filthier. Her hair is a mess, with stray strands plastered to her sweaty face, her cheeks are flushed, and her clothes are covered with mud. She knows she must look a fright, but she's too tired to care.

When they reach the end of the hill, Ginny collapses on the ground and lets out a huge sigh of exhaustion.

“I'm worn out,” she mumbles.

“You are?” Harry looks down at her and smiles smugly. “What happened to your famous Weasley Power?”

She can tell he's fighting back a full grin. He looks way too fresh for someone who has spent the last four hours on a broom, and it's _unfair_. He must have drunk a potion that makes you look good even when you are sweaty and your hair is windswept, she is sure of it.

Ginny groans again, aloud this time. “Just leave me.”

She closes her eyes and hears him chuckle. For a moment, she thinks he actually left, but then she hears a rustling of clothes as Harry lies down next to her. She is surprised at first, but the proximity isn't unpleasant. She decides she doesn't mind him there, his presence is almost comforting.

They stay like that for awhile, lying in silence on the grass and close enough to feel the other's body heat. A cool wind caresses her skin and Ginny inhales slowly. It's soothing, quiet, relaxing. It's–

“It's beautiful,” Harry whispers.

Ginny opens her eyes to look at him. He's staring at the last rays of sunshine. His face seems to glow under the tangerine sky, eyes sparkling like two emerald stones. His lips bear the semblance of a smile. There is no crease on his forehead, no shadow under his eyes. He looks... serene, almost happy. And then she realises, for the first time in what must feel like forever, Harry _is_ happy.

They hear Hermione laughing in the distance as Ron grabs her around the waist and spins her around.

Harry sighs. “I'm definitely using this memory next time I've to conjure a Patronus.”

Something tightens in her chest, something she can't quite explain. “Yeah?”

He looks at her, eyes travelling over her face as if he's trying to memorize all of her features.

His grin stretches wide. “Yeah.”

It's way after sunset by the time they finally join Hermione and Ron on the patio.

 


	7. When She Is Mad

If Harry was honest with himself, he would admit that he is being petty. If Harry wasn't petty, he would admit that _maybe_ he is also at fault. But Harry is too proud, so instead of apologising, he's brooding. And really, if you think about it, _she_ is the one overreacting here so _she_ should apologise. Right? _Yeah, right._

Huffing, he rests his head in the heel of his hand and watches as Ron orders his rook to move three squares forward.

It feels like they have been playing Wizard's Chess for hours now. After losing your queen, the game gets rather boring. Of course, they could be playing two-a-side Quidditch instead or, even better, Bet-a-Bean, but Ms. Weasley is too busy being childish to apologise. It's not like Harry cares anyway, because really, he doesn't. He's having lots of fun without her.

Scowling at the chessboard, he mutters, "Second pawn, one square forward."

Ron raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that seems to say 'I'm not sure if I'm this good or if you're just this bad'. Harry's glare dares him to say it aloud. Ron is a lot of things, but he isn't stupid, so he merely commands his knight to kill the exposed pawn. Harry almost wishes he would just capture his king so they could play something else. _Anything_ else.

Beside him, Hermione shuts her book with a snap. "This is ridiculous!" she scolds. "Why don't you just apologise and–"

"Fourth pawn, one square forward," Harry interrupts her.

Hermione looks outraged. Placing her hands on her hips, she says rather sharply, "Fine! Keep sulking, then!"

"I'm not sulking!"

He is _not_. Besides, _she_ is the one who locked herself in the broom shed, so who is sulking now?

Just then, Fleur enters the kitchen, humming what sounds like a French lullaby. "Is zere any more scones?" she asks no one in particular. "My Billy Bear wants to eet some."

Grinning, Harry looks at Ron, but he is too busy drooling over Fleur to notice. As for Hermione, she is scowling at her book. Of course, if Ginny was there she would get the joke, but she's not and bloody hell Harry is bored without her.

"Sod it!" he swears under his breath, then stalks toward the back door.

"Finally!" he thinks he heard Hermione say.

As he walks toward the broom shed, Harry feels like he is about to face a giant Basilisk. _Just don't look her in the eyes_ , he tells himself, then knocks on the shed door.

The door bursts open to reveal a furious looking Ginny Weasley. At the sight of him, her brows snap together, hands squeezing into fits. Jaw set, she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him.

"What do you want?" she demands.

Harry reminds himself not to look her in the eyes, he focuses on her wild flaming red hair instead.

He clears his throat, "Ginny."

"Harry," she answers cooly.

He has learnt something very important over the summer: it's best to be upfront with Ginny.

Harry ruffles his hair and sighs, "You're still angry."

Her sharp intake of breath makes him look into her eyes. Big mistake. A deep flush starts high and seems to sink down her neck into her shirt. Ginny storms toward him and pulls herself to her full length.

He should be scared, he knows, but she is just so adorable when she does that, he can't help but smile.

"I'm still angry? You think I'm still angry?!" she growls. "I'm calm! I'm perfectly calm!"

Harry smirks. "Geez, I'd hate to see it when you're not."

"Don't make me hex you!" she roars. " _You ate my Chocolate Frogs!_ I was saving them for Hogwarts! Do you know how hard it is to save sweets in this house when your brother is Ron bloody Weasley?!"

Harry knows he is supposed to look guilty. He tries very hard to hide his grin, but then Ginny makes a sound like an angry cat and he can't hold back his snort any longer.

"What?!" Ginny yells. "What's so bloody funny?"

"It's just," he tries to rein in his laughter. "You look like an angry kitten when you're mad."

Eyes flashing dangerously, she strides closer and shoves his chest. "You bloody stupid– STOP LAUGHING!"

But Harry lets loose a roar of laughter. The more she hits him, the harder he seems to laugh. After a while, he grabs hold of her hands and holds them to his chest. She stills, but she is still glaring at him.

"It's not funny," she says when he finally recovers.

"Sorry," he releases her hands.

"For laughing at me or for eating my Chocolate Frogs?"

"I wasn't laughing at you," he assures. "And I'm sorry I ate your Chocolate Frogs, I didn't know they were yours."

Ginny eyes him for a moment. Heart hammering in his chest despite himself, Harry gives her what he hopes looks like a charming smile.

With a slight blush on her cheeks, she looks down and mumbles, "Fine, I forgive you."

It feels like hot chocolate that warms you to the toes.

Grinning, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Wanna play Bet-a-Bean?"

"You'll have to clean your broom first. I put Bulbadox powder on it."

Harry gives her an incredulous look.

She shrugs. "I was mad at you," she says as if it explains everything.

He shakes his head, "You're dangerous, Ginny Weasley."


	8. Goodbye Summer

“About time!” Ron looks infuriated when Ginny joins them on the rooftop terrace. “What the hell took you so long?”

“I had to write Dean back”, she shrugs.

She ignores the dirty look her brother throws her and takes a seat next to Harry. Arnold, her new Pygmy Puff, is perched on her shoulder. Harry smiles at the purple fluff ball.

“Hey there, little boy,” he strokes his soft fur.

Arnold gives a little squeak, his resemblance to Ron is suddenly striking. Ginny declared a week ago that she would name her new pet Arnold. When Harry asked her why, she said it was because he looks just like Ron when he squeals.

As if knowing exactly what he is thinking about, Ginny catches Harry's eyes and they both look away quickly, grinning.

Hermione checks her watch. “In approximatively ten minutes, summer will be over.”

They all turn to stare at the setting sun. The sky is beautiful this late afternoon, like an endless canvas with colours tossed upon. Harry remembers the bright summer days spent up there on a broom, it seems like just yesterday they were playing their first two-a-side Quidditch game.

This first game was a mess. Hermione kept complaining about how 'dangerous' Quidditch was and Ron kept yelling at her to intercept the Quaffle, they ended up having a row. Ginny bet two Bertie Bott's Every Flavour beans that Hermione would throw her broom at Ron. Harry smiles at the memory, he still can't believe she did just that.

The next day, Harry and Ginny were playing Bet-a-Bean.

“It's been a wonderful summer,” Ginny muses. “Well, if we ignore these last few days.”

She gives Harry a pointed look. There is some bitterness in her voice and he isn't quite sure how he is supposed to construe that.

“Whatever happened in Diagon Alley,” she mutters and Harry understands.

 _Malfoy_.

He feels it again, the swamp of words threatening to flow out of his mouth. He has spent the last week of the holidays thinking about Malfoy's behaviour in Knockturn Alley. Ron and Hermione don't believe him, but maybe if he talked to Ginny about his assumptions, she would understand how _right_ he is about this bizarre case: Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. He has to be.

“Ginny–”

“What are you going to miss the most about the holidays?” Hermione interrupts him.

She gives him a look that seems to say 'we are not talking about Malfoy _again_.' Harry fights the urge to snap at her.

“Mum's food,” Ron answers with a dreamy smile. “Don't get me wrong, I love Hogwarts food, but there's nothing like mum's food.”

“That's because she uses a secret ingredient,” Ginny says.

The two siblings share a look then grin. “Her love for us,” they say in unison.

At Hermione and Harry confusion, Ron explains, “She used to tell us that when we were little.”

Harry feels a pang of sadness. Sometimes he wishes he grew up at the Burrow, he can't imagine Aunt Petunia telling him something like that.

Ginny glances at him, then says brightly, “I'm going to miss flying in the orchard. Beating Harry's arse at Quidditch was the highlight of my days.”

Harry grins. “Be nice, Weasley. You're talking about your future Captain,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up. “Does it mean I'm officially on the team?”

“You wish!” he laughs. “You'll have to try out like everyone else.”

“Spoilsport,” she says, eyes twinkling.

“What about you, Hermione?” Ron asks.

She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I'm going to miss reading whatever I want, whenever I want.”

Ron throws back his head and roars with laughter, startling Arnold. Ginny cups the poor Pygmy Puff in her hands.

“Only you would say something like that!”

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest. “What is that supposed to mean?” When Ron laughs even louder, she decides to ignore him and turns to Harry, “What about you?”

There are so many things Harry is going miss: Mrs. Weasley's treacle tart, Mr. Weasley endless questions about Muggles, Bill's fascinating stories about Egypt, flying all day long with his friends. And then, he strikes him. What he is going to miss the most about the holidays is...

“Being normal,” he says quietly.

Harry watches the last rays of sun fall across the orchard, creating a glowing collision between the sky and the trees. Ginny is right, it has been a wonderful summer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to everyone who commented, left a kudo and bookmarked this story. This was my first Harry/Ginny fic, I hope you liked it!


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